I Wish You Could See
by Ellienoth
Summary: Blaine now is blind. He move to another school where he meet Kurt. With him, he discover what really means love somebody without reserves and that love can go over the person. Because they are both blind, but love is blind too, even if they don't know it.
1. Chapter 1

_I wish you could see._

_-Chapter 1-_

It was difficult. It has always been difficult for me not to see. I thought I would have gotten used to it, but it has turned out to be degenerative to only be able to imagine what, once upon a time, I could have seen.

They all tried to make it easy, to make things easier for me but in reality, they just felt guilty about my conditions. It was my best friends fault if, two months before, I had had that car accident. I ended up in the hospital with a dark bandage on my eyes but I still didn't know that it would have been all dark forever.

My parents decided that it would have been much better if I changed schools, so they brought me to a specialized one for the blind, where I would follow special classes and learn how to read Braille. The thing that mattered the most to me was to learn how to read music and to play the guitar, because I had no intention to let my passion for music go. My voice wasn't damaged, I could do it.

I was half happy and half sad thinking about abandoning the school that, for my whole life, had been my world but, and it deeply hurt to admit, I wasn't part of anymore. I couldn't live in a world where all my friends talked about pretty girls who I wasn't interested in and that now I could only imagine.

I was sitting in the car, on the back seat, while my parents drove silently to the Doge College with the radio at a really low volume. I couldn't see the road or look at the sky and wonder if it would rain. I had become a half man and I felt like I had disappointed someone with that sudden change. The fact that I was gay had already shaken the familiar balance and now they really could say that I was a handicapped. It was painful, I hated that. The problem was that I believed it. I didn't feel normal.

« We are almost there, dear. » my mother squeaked with the worried tone she usually used when she was talking to me. Did she feel guilty? As if my condition was her fault.

I heard the car sliding on a noisy dirty road and I imagined it was in the open countryside, surrounded by fruit trees, in a sort of happy island.

Why wasn't I able to see all this?

The car slipped and someone switched off the radio. My father coughed and shut off the car.

« Are we there? » I asked.

« Yep. » my mother answered in a breath. It was frustrating to hear that she was holding back the tears, painful and frustrating.

Someone, my father probably, opened the car trunk to take my things, my mother got out of the car and came to open my door. They were both so kind and sad that, just for this time, I decided not to point out how much I hated to see that suddenly they were vitiating me. I felt my mother's hand taking mine, dragging me out of the car to the entrance door. We went through what might have been the courtyard, because I heard the voices of some guys mixing in one dissonant and noisy melody until someone ran into my father who was dragging my luggage. I heard the thud and then a mortified apologizing murmur, followed by irregular steps that went away.

My mother's hand held mine tighter. Dad knocked, strongly, and the sound echoed beyond the door that, a few seconds later, someone opened. It didn't creaked while it was opening, I just heard the lock fluid click.

« Mr. and Mrs. Anderson? » a feminine, helpful, know-it-all voice asked.

« Yes, exactly. » my father answered after a moment of hesitation. « We're here for our son Blaine… » he started, but I stopped him.

« I still know how to talk, Dad. » I blurted, more acidly than I wanted to sound.

« Of course you can. » said the voice, agreeing with me. A hand i didn't know took my wrist, walking quickly inside, bringing me blindly through a corridor. I heard the noise of my mother's heels behind my back and someone saying to my father to give him my luggage and that I would find it in my room.

My new life was about to begin and I already felt terribly and obnoxiousness alone. That sensation was so sudden and painful that I had to bit my lips to keep from crying.

« Be careful of the four steps. » the know-it-all voice warned me. As she had just said we got into some steps, covered by soft carpets, on which I almost stumble. I wasn't used to walking that fast, I was losing my sense of direction.

I was getting hotter, at the point that I could have taken off my coat.

We entered a room, suddenly stopped, and she let go of my wrist.

« So, welcome to "Andrew Doge's College of the Blind." I'm Janet and I deal with paperwork and acceptance. Now I will assign to you a tutor, who is one of the best students of the school. Obviously he's from your same year. His job is to help you get oriented. Trust him and listen to him, okay? It's the best way to integrate here. » then, without waiting for an answer, she turned to my parents. « It's time for hugs and kisses! See you on Halloween. »

My mother held me tight, without stopping her sobs, while my father put a hand on my shoulder. « It's all going to be okay. » I told them, making a fake smile. They should have told me that, but I know they wouldn't have said it. She had cried for a long time but, thanks to God, she stopped. While they were leaving the room, my parents closed the door, leaving me alone with Janet in a place that I didn't even know and that I couldn't see. It was like being suspended on nothing, leaving nothing surrounding me.

« From what I see your tutor is going to be Kurt Hummel. » the voice of the girl now came from a place under my head, I guessed we might have been in a sort of office and that she might have been sitting.

« What will he make me do? » I asked, feeling incredibly stupid and incompetent thinking about not to be at the same level of any of the boys.

« It depends. He will organize what you'll need. His file is an excellent grades orgy, for God's sake! » I heard the rustle of the sheets of paper Janet was reading. The click of the lock made me instinctively turn around, even though I couldn't see who had entered anyway.

« Oh, you must be Kurt. We were just talking about you! » squeaked Janet and I heard her stand up, probably to bring me nearer the person who had just come in.

« I can do it by myself, I swear. » I told her, keeping my hands in front of me trying to go to where I heard the door opening. Gropingly I found a hand that leaned to my chest. Suddenly I felt two hands quickly touching my face, dwelling on my rebellious curly hair and my long eyelashes. He passed two fingers on my lips and all along my neck, to lean on my shoulders in the end.

« Pleasure: I'm Kurt. I guess you already know it. » From the person in front of me came a high pitch voice, so strange that I found it hard to identify.

« I thought you were a boy. » I exclaimed, not thinking about how offensive it could sound.

A sort of laugh shook the body in front of me.

« Actually, I am a boy. » he answered.

I blushed. Now I sounded even worse. I had to have made a terrible first impression. I always thought i was good at this kind of thing, I guess not.

« I... I'm mortified. I really am. »

He laughed again.

« I forgive you, just because everyone does that the first time. » he answered.

Janet coughed.

« I leave you to your orientation. I've got things to check in the archive. Kurt, you know what to do, don't you? » she asked. The sound of her heels came near to us, and then it went further and went out of the door. Turning my face I involuntarily hit Kurt's chest and I realized he was nearer than I thought. Maybe for a blind person having people so close was normal.

« Sure. » he answered, more to himself than to Janet who was already gone. Kurt closed the door and then put a hand on my back, pushing me to the center of the office.


	2. Chapter 2 Put your hands on me

«So, your name's Blaine.» he said, after I sat on a dust smelling sofa. He had accompany me there with kindness and attention. I imagined he knew how I felt: for the first time I was in a new unknown place.  
>« May I ask how old are you?» he asked to me.<br>« Is this the acceptance routine? »  
>He sighed. « This is my acceptance routine. I don't like talking with people I don't know. »<br>I wasn't sure to understand him, but I pleased him. I wanted to trust him so bad that it was almost strange and it scared me at the same time.  
>« I'm seventeen. »<br>« I'm seventeen and a half. » he pointed out proudly.  
>I smiled, thinking about how easy did life seemed to him. He didn't create boundaries, he didn't put cold walls between us. During that two months I almost seemed to be filled by the obstacles that my blindness had created between me and the rest of the world.<br>« Are you born blind? » he continued imperturbable.  
>I hardly swallowed.<br>« No, I wish I was. Maybe it would be easier and now I would be able to move without overturning vases or falter to every step. » I murmured, holding my hands for giving me courage. Talking about being blind made me sink in a dense and freezy awkwardness pond, and I couldn't swim.  
>« I can't tell you if you're right. I'm not born blind either. A domestic accident: my father didn't really know how to cook. There had been some problems with the gas, everything took fire and, well, here I am. » he resumed with a dark tone of voice.<br>« I'm sorry this is happened to you. » I tried to seem really, really sorry, instinctively I lifted my head searching for his eyes but, as usual, I had forgotten an important detail: my eyes didn't work anymore and I had to deal with it.  
>« Oh, I didn't get hurt so much, comparing me with my mother. She died in that accident. » he added coldly. I stayed in silence, feeling the blood freeze into my veins as if I had drunk liquid nitrogen.<br>« I... I... » He sighed, making the heavy atmosphere softer.  
>« What about you? » he asked.<br>« A car accident. I was with my best friends. The one who drove was completely drunk so, when we crushed on the other car, I had jumped out from the vehicle and my head hit the ground. I should be happy to be alive. »  
>« Yeah, you should. » he commented. « Were you at a party?» he asked, trying to – without many results - make that conversation – irremediably icy – less cold.<br>« Yep. You know, I had to meet a boy there, some friends o' mine wanted us to date... » I realized too late that I have said too much, that conversation had just been ruined. I had implied my homosexuality, I had let myself unbend.  
>I had messed up all.<br>« Yes, also my best friend was always organizing me dates with other guys. I've to say that she still do it. » he grumbled, laughing.  
>I gasped. He didn't seem shocked about my confession and, even stranger, he had just implied to have been in my same situation, so...<br>« ... wait: are you gay too? » I asked, shocked. I really didn't expect to meet other homosexuals in that fancy school.  
>« You're the first who seems surprised. » he exclaimed, enthusiastic.<br>A huge smile exploded on my face and my heart seemed to take new life.  
>I wasn't alone. I wasn't forced to hide it, there.<br>« It seems impossible to me. » I muttered, shaking my head and bursting in a joyful laugh.  
>« Well, believe in it, dude. » he answered, making an exasperate sound. I felt so free to being talking with someone so similar to me and so helpful.<br>I really wanted to see his eyes in that moment, so I could have seen his soul.  
>« Why did you touched my face, before? » I asked, turning my head on a side and imagining Kurt sitting in front of me, with an embarrassed smile and two bright eyes.<br>« 'cause I want to imagine the person I'm talking to. It's my fetish, forgive me. »  
>I heard the rustle of the cloth and I guessed he might have crossed his legs.<br>« Don't apologize, it's a terribly wonderful thing. » I whispered.  
>« But I couldn't get your colours. » he growled with melancholy.<br>« I don't want bother you, but…can you describe yourself? » he asked, embarrassed. He had been so self confident until a couple of minutes ago and now he seemed to lurch.  
>« Well... No, it's okay. » I pleased him.<br>The sudden change in his tone of voice made me guess that he had suddenly become particularly happy.  
>« Hair? »<br>« Dark brown, almost black. »  
>« Eyes? »<br>« Uhm, I would say green. »  
>Kurt clapped his hand and sighed.<br>« I love green eyes. » he murmured, and he said that with such an innocence that the fact I was blushing seemed terribly out of place but, luckily, he couldn't see me.  
>« T-thanks. » I stuttered.<br>« Do you want to touch me? » he asked.  
>At that point my face became purple, I felt my cheek becoming instantly hotter and my ears pulse. What was I thinking?<br>My silence made Kurt understand what I thought he meant and he suddenly come to correct what he just said.  
>« No, no! I didn't mean in that…. sense! I meant… I meant the face! As I did before. » he laughed hysterically, evidently embarrassed.<br>I almost couldn't move thinking about with which kind of person might he think to be talking to.  
>Oh great, I had become Blaine, the maniac. In a scale from one to ten, I doubted that the impression I was showing would went over the two.<br>« Well, you can analyze my face if you want. It's a great sensation, I swear, it's really useful. » he insisted.  
>I sighed.<br>I stood up and tried to reach him without hitting something. The floor was in smooth and slippery marble, it didn't help. Some hands came to take my wrists and made me touch the soft and smooth skin of his face. My fingers, compared to that, were terribly rough and callused.  
>« You are a musician, aren't you? » he said. « You've got callus on your fingertips. Guitar? Violin? Ukulele? »<br>« Guitar, you're right. You're good, I should be the one analyzing you. » I smiled. I loved the way he behaved. He was genuine and strong, but also shy and inexplicably innocent.  
>« I've always wanted to sing with a guitar. » he whispered and, while I was passing my thumbs on his lips as he had done before on me, I felt him smiling. His cheekbones were delicate, he had big eyes with long eyelashes, arched and regular eyebrows, his skin similar to porcelain and his hair lacquered and soft. I wondered how could he have such a perfect hair without seeing himself on the mirror. His nose had a strange form but it was soft and cold.<br>« Can you sing? » I asked.  
>« Sometimes. » he answered, shrugging.<br>Kurt was right. The idea about exploring a person without seeing her was like wondering, in the dark, what could you have into your hands: magical. I felt like I was a child again. That sensation gave me shivers.  
>« What color is your hair? »<br>« Light brown, or better, it's a mix between brown, the color of ash and the color of honey. » he specified, and I laughed at his precision. « So it's more detailed and – because I am a stereotyped fashion obsessed gay – I really like to play with colors. » he explained without stopping chuckling.  
>« What about your eyes? Just tell me the color, please, I'm not as good as you with fashion. »<br>« Light blue. » he smiled again. « A really good one, to be honest. » he boasted, swelling his chest.  
>He was adorable. This word usually was for a very few people, but he really was adorable.<br>« Once, I liked light blue eyes. » I said without thinking.  
>I felt his eyebrows arching surprised under my hands.<br>« Once? »  
>I nodded.<br>« Now I can't see them anymore. »

**Note:  
><strong>Wow, che miglioramento! Sinceramente, rispetto al primo capitolo hai fatto già molti meno errori, correggerlo è stato molto più semplice e meno impegnativo. Certo, alcuni aggettivi sono magari un po' più ricercati, ma è il tuo stile, li hai tradotti coerentemente e va benissimo così!  
>Come al solito, fai sempre attenzione allo slang e a non fare costruzioni troppo rigide, da inglese scolastico, ma già sei migliorata tantissimo, continua così!<br>PS: occhi ai plurali, spesso ti sfuggono ;) 


	3. Chapter 3 I never will

Yes, I couldn't have seen anymore those light blue eyes that I loved so much. I could have just imagined them. I could have just smelled the scent of my aunt's Christmas dishes. I could have just touched the meadow's soft grass of the place we used to go on holiday.  
>It all would have just remained in my memories. I had to pray for my brain to stay strong and no forget anything of what I had the chance to have seen until now.<p>

And, most of all, I had to accept my conditions.

The hate was growing in me, unstoppable. It was eating myself, piece after piece, while Kurt's cold hands were taking my wrists, removing them from his face.

« You know, Blaine, sometimes what you can imagine is better than what you can really see. Dreams are better than reality after all, aren't they? »

« Yes, but they're not true. » I answered, headstrong. I couldn't deal with it.  
>All I wanted was to open my eyes and see Kurt's ones. I wanted to notice his hair's shades, observe the marble pavement's color and examine the combinations of colors that he could have create with his clothes: the absurd thing was that he couldn't see them. I wanted to recognize myself in the mirror, I was forgetting my face. I wanted to see the sun and the sky. I wanted to read music. I never wanted to live like this, I never meant to be so different.<p>

Before I could realize it, tears were already collapsing into my cheeks draining all along my face and my neck, ending up on Kurt's cold hands.

« Blaine, wha- » he murmured, escaping from my grip.

« I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. I… I never cry, I swear. I'm a really cheerful guy, I really am. » I murmured, as I was crying and smiling and my body was shaken by shivers and sobs.

I've never felt worst in my whole life, neither after the car accident. My new life was collapsing on me from the start. It was like being segregated in a box without holes for light or air.

Kurt stood up, he took my hand and he brought me in somewhere where I felt the wind on my skin. Maybe a ventilator?

From the noise I heard I guessed it might have been a window. Kurt opened it and let the cold breeze come in, mixed to the sun's warmth that caressed my face. The ground's smell suddenly penetrated my nostrils.

« Tell me what you think there is outside this window. » he said, taking a deep breath.

I passed a hand on my face, trying to dry the tears from it and I answered.

« I don't know. »

He hit me on the back of my head.

« Try. » he squeaked, more acute than usual.

I forced myself to try, despite my rational part was telling me I was just delaying what was inexorable. I mentally not attached the strings that had caught back my dreamer soul and pictures suddenly exploded in my mind.

« A grass stretch. Lush grass and a fence to the left with some animals. A swing where a little girl is placid swinging and... some yellow and red trees with half of their leaves on the ground. Two guys are reading lying on a cover. Sun is warm but the wind mitigate its warmth. I see chubby clouds at the horizon. I see... the sun shining bright as usual. » I concluded. I sniffed and Kurt laughed and sighed.

« You're almost better than me. » he commented, and he passed a thumb on my cheek, reaching the tears that I had just stopped.

« Do you know what there really is out of there? » I asked, closing my eyelids and enjoying the sun. Kurt made a noise similar to the one that cats made when they stretched.

« Yep, but I'm never going to tell you. Your vision was infinitely better. » he answered.

At that moment I was so grateful to him that I couldn't help taking his hand. I immediately found it and it had been incredible. It was as if I knew where Kurt was, as if he had somehow bounded to me in half an hour.

« Thank you. » I murmured. He took my mouth angles and pull them up.

« Thank _you_. » he answered in a low voice. « and smile, I was sure you wasn't doing it. » and he walked away.

« What do we have to do now? » I asked, trying to regain some self-control: it was turning up to be harder than I thought.

« I want to teach you how to use the stick, for now. What do you think about it? »

Moving without hitting a wall at almost every step would have actually been really interesting.

I agreed

« Good idea, I could result less dangerous with a stick in my hands. »

He laughed and I heard the lock clicking again. We were about to go out in the corridor again.

« The other would already be in their classes but I have free-morning to help you. Oh, how I like to be a tutor. » he exclaimed.

Using the stick wasn't so difficult, or at least, I had thought worse; it seemed easier with Kurt next to me. He had a hand on my shoulder and he was giving to me some base indications with kind voice.

« Don't worry, it's easy. The first time I used it I hit my feet, I fell on my knees and I irremediably ruined my new Mark Jacobs satin trousers: a complete disaster. »

While I was trying to feel the ground – in fact we were walking in the school's courtyard – I burst into laugh.

« So you really are a fashion expert, you wasn't joking! »

A stick hit my leg, and I was sure that it wasn't mine.

« Of course! I never joke. » he pointed out, with a fluted and obvious tone of voice.

I realized I was bringing out of his prison that Blaine who the car accident had killed. I remember I used to be expansive, smiling, spontaneous, slightly weird... and I also remembered how I suddenly turned myself off after have known that I wouldn't have seen the light anymore. But now that Blaine was emerging again: a terrible, adorable guy was resuscitating him. I was forced to realized every second more that with such a kind of new life, a new Blaine would have born: a Blaine I hoped would have been better. I wanted to let me go with Kurt, I wanted to inhibit every brake and to be myself the best way I could: exactly like him.

« How can you dress fashionable or combine colors, if you can't see them? »

He made a strutting noise.

« I dress with all my old clothes. By the touch I can recognize them and I'm able to remember their colors. » he explained, shifting next to me. « It's a warm day. » he commented. I inspired the fresh air; it smelled of dry leaves, wood, ground and asphalt. Sun was warming my sweater and I imagined to walk on a pentagram path, listening to the rhythm and writing notes with the stick.

Toc.

I hit a rock and, thanks to God, I managed walking over it.

« You're getting better! » he exclaimed enthusiastically.

« Kurt, do you know where are we going? » I asked.

« I walked here like a thousand times, I know every tile of this courtyard. »

« How long have you been here? » I asked curiously.

He stopped and changed topic.

« We should go back in, you still haven't taken your number room. Moreover you have to meet your roommate. This is a male school so he obviously will be a boy. » he took my walking stick and then my hand. He brought me back in, walking forward me as we used to do at the nursery. I remembered my years in that place hadn't been so memorable but Kurt's hand was delicate, despite I sensed he was disturbed, and touched mine sweetly.

Suddenly, he immobilized me.

« Blaine I want you to understand one thing. » he murmured. « I'm not just a tutor. I mean... I have a lot of friends, that's true, and I'm kind of important in this school and I like that everybody cares about me, I admit it. But you're different and I suddenly understood that. You're just like me, you truly make me smile and that's not the fake smile I must show to everybody just because they expect me to do it. Please, don't become one of the many faceless people who ask to sit next to me in the lunch room. Remain a true person, okay? Remember: I am just like you and I'll remain so, nothing else matters. »

I didn't answer as he expected, there was nothing I needed to confirm about what he said: I wanted to stay. I wanted to talk with him and finally feel part of something, part of someone. I wouldn't have got lost in the pile, not if he talked to me like that.

He couldn't understand how happy I was to have found him and I didn't care if I had just met him, you don't need so much time to understand how special a person is: just a few words.

« Are there music lessons here at school? » I asked.

« Yes, sure: singing, guitar, piano, trombone, drums and flute. Why? » He answered kinda of surprised.

I smiled and, this time, I was the one looking for his shoulder. I leaned here my hand and felt the warmth of his body and the softness of his clothes.

« Because we have to sing together, and I'll accompany us with the guitar, soon, okay? »

He shivered and chuckled, slightly shaking his shoulders.

« Promised? » he asked shyly.

« Promised. » I confirmed and I couldn't help wondering if he paid as much attention to my details as I paid to his.


End file.
